


The Bones From Your Back

by norgbelulah



Category: Justified
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:18:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norgbelulah/pseuds/norgbelulah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ava knows there's no going back now. Maybe it's madness, maybe it's the meds, but no one's going anywhere tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bones From Your Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Abraxas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abraxas/gifts).



> Written for abraxas for the holiday gift fic meme. I need the show to come back so I can stop writing Ava recovery fic. D: Hope you enjoy. <3 Happy Holidays, bb.

“It’s a death trap,” Boyd says.

He’s leaning against the wall of her bedroom, close to the door. Her shotgun is leaning next to him, the trigger close to his hand.

“What?” Ava asks sleepily, shifting carefully in the bed, not wanting to strain her stitches. She pulls the blankets up around her shoulders. She’s tired and the meds feel heavy on her tonight, but she opens her eyes and looks at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I believe, Ava, that’s the only honest thing my daddy ever told me about this life.” His voice is quiet, thoughtful, and betrays his exhaustion. She thought he’d gone to bed with her, but she’s not surprised he’s still up. Sleep has been hard coming for him these last few days.

“It’s cold, Boyd, did you open the door?”

“I thought there was someone outside,” he says and he lays a hand over his darkly shadowed eyes.

“Let them come in if they want,” she says, hardly thinking. “There’s a shot gun in your hand, the glock in my drawer, and an arsenal in the basement.” Her lids are heavy but she wants to be awake for him.

“Oh, Ava,” Boyd sighs and comes across the room to her side.

She smiles up at him when his hand, palm clammy with sweat, maybe fear, comes softly against her cheek. “I’m sorry, Ava,” he says for the millionth time. She’s tired of apologies. Maybe she’ll extract something else from him tonight.

“We talked about that,” she replies dismissively and catches his hand in both hers, pulling him down to sit next to her, knees over the side of the bed. She slides his hand down, under her night shirt and up to cup her breast. His fingers are freezing, just in from outside, but sometimes she likes that, it wakes her up a little.

She feels fuzzy, knows it’s because she took two of those pain pills and didn’t get to sleep long enough. But she feels good, her stitches don’t itch and the wound doesn’t hurt. She looks at him and smiles the way she used to when she wanted him, before when she had the strength for a tumble.

Boyd just shakes his head at her, but she doesn’t let him move his hand. “You need to get out of this, baby,” he says. “It’s going to ruin us. Tell me to get out of your house. Right now.”

She laughs, not long though, because she really does know he’s being serious, and says, “Not with your hand on my tit.”

“Ava,” he says like he does when he’s losing patience with her. “I just spent twenty minutes sneaking around all four corners of your property because I thought for sure I heard someone load up a barrel outside. This is what it’s going to be like. For perhaps a very long time. And I can’t ask you to--”

Ava sits up and he cuts himself off, moving to help her, hands under her elbow and braced at her hip. She reaches for him, grasping at both sides of his face. “That’s just it, Boyd, you never had to ask. Not after the first time. I’m with you, I been sayin’ that for weeks. I know what it’s going to be like. We’re living it right now. And maybe you ain’t sleepin’ quite enough yet, and maybe I ain’t completely healed, but I think we’re doin’ just fine.”

“You’d have to be crazy to think that this is fine,” he says, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. He’s warming back up now and where their skin touches it feels as though there’s a current running through and down into her, making her heart beat faster.

“Well then I am, Boyd. I’m crazy because I love you. I do. So, I’m not going to tell you who to be and you’re not going to tell me who to be with. I want you. I’m staying. You’re staying.” She pulls one hand down and presses it against his chest, where she feels his heart beating just as fast as hers.

“Ain’t no one running from this, okay?” she says. “You caught a bullet before and lived through it and now I caught one, too. Maybe the next one will kill one of us, but we had our chances, time and time again, to get out of here, to back out, and say no. I’m not going anywhere now, are you?”

“No,” he breathes, shaking his head in a pivoting motion from where they were still pressed together. “No, Ava. But it ain’t.. it _won't_ always be like this. I’m gonna make it better,” he vows and kisses her.

And she feels her love and desire for him gather up inside her, layer upon layer, like unwinding a bolt of fabric, laying it out in a pile that could stretch miles and miles. She thrusts her want at him through his kiss, she pulls him closer, strong and slow. He moves automatically to straddle her, not pressing too close, holding himself above her, so she doesn’t strain. She knows he’s worrying about her wound, but she wants this, she can show him.

“Baby,” he says into her lips, uncertainty in his voice, but she can hear his desire too, feel it warm against her thigh. They haven’t done this since she was shot, the doctor said she shouldn’t for a while.

Ava thinks a while is up tonight. She can’t wait any longer.

“We’ll go slow,” she whispers, breathing kisses down his jaw and neck. “We can do that. We can go so slow, so good, Boyd, _please_ ,” she hears herself begging. She wants him so bad the room is sort of spinning around them, she thinks maybe it’s the whole world that’s revolving.

He wraps his arms around her and flips them both over so she’s on top and he’s flat on the bed. She doesn’t feel any pain, but she does feel the bandages stretch as he moves her, except she doesn’t care at all.

“I ain’t no china doll, baby,” she murmurs, pulling at his belt and fly, his hands have come around her buttocks, tracing circles, massaging playfully and when she looks at him, she sees that he knows.

He helps her pull down his pants and underwear, just far enough to be free of his behind, and his cock springs free, erect, flushed with his desire for her. He slides his hand past it and presses now warm fingers to her clit. She moans and rocks against them and he’s looking at her like he hasn’t really laid eyes on her in years.

She traces her fingers across his chest as he continues to rub at her little bud, slippery now because she’s so goddamn wet. Ava raises herself up a little and takes Boyd’s cock in her hand, sliding it slowly inside her by inches, sinking down like she’s settling him in to stay for good. He opens his mouth in a silent cry, eyes closing involuntarily as she begins to move.

She rides him like she’s on a slow trail, long pulls, up and down. She braces her hand on his shoulder, just above the dark tattoo. She feels the tension building between them and she wants to move fast, press on, but she’s starting to feel something else too, the strain she’d thought she could keep at bay.

Boyd opens his eyes when she stutters, when she squeezes hard at his shoulder, and he smiles at her reassuringly. She wants to cry.

He comes forward off the bed, sighing with the rearrangement of their bodies as her breath hitches. “Shh, baby,” he croons and caresses her cheek, drawing his fingers lovingly into her hair, he kisses her softly. “We’re fine,” he says and lets his hand fall to her clit again.

She gasps as he pushes gently, letting his thumb slip again and again across and around the sensitive area. She feels the tension in her building, compounding, spinning up in her like the room around them, around and around like his soft, sure thumb, helped along by all his clever fingers. She moves again without thought, rocking back and forth, clinging hard to him as his speed increases. She throws her head back and cries out loud, long, wordless because now it’s so good and it’s too much and it comes over her fast and strong and for a moment everything is beautiful.

She clamps around him and he groans, but she knows he’s far from ready. She wants to move, with him, for him, but she finds she can’t, she’s lost the strength and can’t strain herself for more. He doesn’t speak, his head buried in her shoulder, she feels his breathing, that he’s trying to calm it down.

“No, no, no,” she whispers. “You’re not done.”

“It’s--” he begins, but she shushes him and get her legs underneath herself.

He groans again when she slips away from him and she tries to be careful as she slides down the bed, pushing the blankets and sheets and his discarded clothes away.

She spreads his legs gently and when she looks up at him, poised over his very erect cock, flushed a purplish-red, glistening a pearl white at the tip, and covered in her come, she tries to put every feeling of love and gratitude her eyes can hold into her expression before she closes her lips around it and takes him in, not wanting him to have to wait any longer.

She knows she can’t keep this up for long either, so she puts her all into it, sucking hard and sweeping her tongue around the underside and tip as she works the base and cups his balls. Boyd’s breath hitches loudly and his hands fist into the fitted sheet. She feels him trying not to buck into her face, so she slides her hand from his balls to the inside of his thigh and looks up at him. He’s breathing hard, flushed red and sweating and, as he meets her eyes, she groans low in her throat and knows he’s about to come, feeling the vibration all through him.

Ava used to refuse to swallow Bowman’s come. She told him it tasted terrible and made her gag and he only smacked her about it once before she threatened to never give him head again. But tonight, with Boyd, it’s something she wants to, feels compelled even, to do.

He’d been ready to keep all of it in for her, because she’d chomped at the bit, got in over her head. But now she’s going to take it in for him, because he loves her and she loves him right back, with every part of her, all of it.

She opens her throat, a little out of practice, but she gets most of it as he strains, back arching, and it pours into her. He tastes lovely, a little bitter but almost sweet at the end somehow, as he pulls her up gently, heavy lidded and satisfied. He kisses the remains off her lips and tongue.

He presses a gentle hand to her bandages and she huffs an impatient breath against his cheek. “I think it’s okay,” she insists, though he hasn’t said anything.

“Maybe we hold off for another week before we try that again, all right, baby?” He says, still smiling softly, and she’s glad because now that’s it’s over, she realizes he needed this more than she did, but never, not ever would he have asked for it.

“You’re not going to make me kick you out before then?” she murmurs as they lay down together, side by side. She knows they’ll have to clean up, pick all the shit up off the floor, get cleaned up and everything, but she’s looking at how tired he is, at the lines that have disappeared across his brow and all she wants is to lie here with him.

“No,” he sighs, sleep not far from his voice, eyes blinking shut. “I think you talked me out of it, Ava.”

“With the words or the blow job?” Ava asks, laughing softly.

He looks at her again, thinking on something for a minute before he replies, tone soft and serious, “My daddy told me once, when he’s been drinking quite a lot, that what he’d done, the choices he’d made, changed him down deep in his bones, twisted ‘em up until they weren’t the same as they were before. He told me to leave, get out before I made choices that would change me in the same way.” Then he smiles again, crooked and wry, and says, “But if you melt down my bones like you did tonight, Ava, maybe once or twice I week, I don’t think I’m gonna have to worry about that at all.”

Ava just smiles into his shoulder and he smooths his hand along the curve of her hip, chuckling into her ear. They settle close, closer than usual and she stays awake to listen to his breathing start to ease, slow down into the long, easy rhythm of sleep.


End file.
